


The Learning Curve

by alakewood



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:16:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1606511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alakewood/pseuds/alakewood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's a first-year teacher and Jared's one of his students.  Jensen's teaching sex ed and Jared's, well, Jared's a little obnoxious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Learning Curve

This is quite possibly one of the worst things about being a first-year teacher, Jensen thinks. He was more than willing to coach the boys' soccer team when asked, but getting volunteered to take over the two periods per semester of Health in addition to his regular twice-a-day biology classes is more than he had bargained for.

He revises his assessment when Jared Padalecki, a senior and star of the varsity soccer team, all but swaggers into the classroom and slides into a desk, front and center. This is most definitely _the worst_ thing about being a first-year teacher.

The kid – well, not really, considering he's eighteen and already stands a good three or four inches taller than Jensen himself, with broad shoulders that- _Anyway_ , Jared is that one cliched student that takes it upon himself to annoy the living daylights out of him. It's like Jared's made it his life's mission to embarrass the hell out of Jensen at every given opportunity. Which is quite frequently as Jensen is _A_ , a new teacher, and _B_ , teaching sex ed to a bunch of hormone crazy teens.

For example, right now, Jensen is writing 'Safe Sex – Pregnancy and STDs' on the whiteboard and can already feel the heat burning not just in his cheeks, but in his ears, too. There are snickers and giggles behind him, but nothing he hasn't grown used to after cracking open their text books to the detailed pages of human anatomy on the first day of second quarter.

“First,” he says as he turns around to face his students, resolutely avoiding eye contact with Jared, “we're going to talk about avoiding pregnancy and forms of contraceptives.” He pauses to glance at the floor and wipe his sweaty palms on his thighs. “Who can tell me the number one, surefire way to avoid pregnancy and STDs?”

There's silence after he asks the question. It stretches to the point where he thinks he's going to have to answer himself, then a hand goes up in the back.

“Yes?”

“Um. Abstinence?”

“Yes. Very good. If you abstain from sex, there is zero chance of getting yourself or someone else pregnant or of contracting a sexually transmitted disease. But not everyone is abstinent. What other methods of contraception can you guys think of?”

In the front row, Jared smirks, hand half-raised, fingers wiggling. “Personally,” he starts, without being called on, “I use the Sofa-bed Method.”

Jensen regrets it already as he asks, “And what's the 'Sofa-bed Method?'”

Jared pauses for half a beat before he says, straight-faced and falsely innocent, “I pull out.”

There's laughter and more giggling and Jensen feels his face burn hotter, but before he has a chance to reign in his students, Jared continues on.

“Well, when I'm with a girl, anyway. It's not like dudes can have ass-babies.” He grins cheekily at that, dimples cutting deep.

Jensen absorbs that little kernel of information, storing it away to review much later after class, and overcomes his embarrassment to tell Jared, “While it's true you can't get your partner pregnant through anal sex, you are still susceptible to STDs. The best way to protect yourself is to _always use a condom._ ” And that's when the bell rings. “Reading assignments is on the board,” he says loud enough to be heard over the students packing up. “I'll see you guys on Friday.”

Jared puts his books away slowly, lingers until he's the last one in the room with Jensen. He licks his lips as he looks Jensen up and down, glances at him from underneath his eyelashes and the fall of his hair across his forehead. “See you after school, Mr. A.”

Jensen can't do much more than watch Jared as he leaves, then hastily packing up his own things and erasing the whiteboard before Mr. Morgan's fourth period government class.

****

oxo

Jared handles the ball like his midfielder idol David Beckham, floppy damp hair held back from his flushed face with a rainbow-striped sweatband as he jogs off the field after practice.

“Good hustle out there, guys!” Jensen says as the rest of the team surrounds him. “Carter, you need to work a little more on your footwork. Hines, watch your speed when you're driving down-field towards the goal. Now, we've got a game tomorrow against the AHS Knights. The bus leaves at two-forty-five, so listen for the announcement. Go hit the showers. You guys reek.”

There's a round of laughter as the boys gather their water bottles and extra gear. Jensen wanders out onto the field to round up wayward soccer balls, tossing them into the mesh bag hefted over his shoulder.

The locker room is mostly cleared out by the time Jensen makes his way back into the school and drops off the soccer balls in the equipment room behind the gym. He passes a couple of his students on the way back to the office he shares with a few other teachers on the athletics staff. “See you tomorrow, Coach,” Murray, the team's best goalie, says as he heads out with Lafferty.

“Bye, guys.” The water in the showers shuts off and Jared comes limping out in his low-slung towel, held together loosely at his hip with one hand while the other rubs at his left quad. “You okay, Padalecki?”

Startled, Jared's head jerks up, wide eyes softening when he sees Jensen. “Just got a cramp,” he says, shaking his dripping-wet hair back from his face as he crosses to one of the benches between the rows of lockers and sits heavily. He splays his thighs a little, gap in his towel widening.

“That's- that's why it's important to stay hydrated,” Jensen tells him, gaze caught on the glimpse of dark, wiry hair high up on the inside of Jared's thigh. “Make sure you drink plenty of water before the game tomorrow.” As he turns to head back towards his office, Jared grunts quietly.

“C'mon, Mr. A. Help me out?”

“Jared....” Jensen drags a hand through his hair but doesn't move. “Ice it, eat a banana, take a couple ibuprofen, and drink lots of water. You'll be fine.”

“Mr. A,” Jared moans, letting his towel slip from his lap, erection blood-dark and straining towards his defined abs. “Please?” He moves the hand rubbing at his quad to his dick, long fingers easily circling its thickness, while the other drops between his legs to cup and roll his balls. Jared bites at his bottom lip, head falling back on his shoulders as he strokes himself with a firm, strong grip. Chest heaving, he breathes loudly through his nose, eyes slitted open just enough to watch Jensen watching him.

Jensen balls his hands into fists at his sides to keep from touching himself. It takes more restraint than he thought he possessed to stay where he is and not cross the locker room to Jared, to help him out like he's begging so prettily for. He needs to stop this. “Jared,” he says with the intent to warn, but it comes out low and broken, rough with want.

Jared's mouth falls open on a gasp. “Oh,” he breathes. “Oh, God.” Then he's coming all over his fist and belly, thick milky ropes that glisten in the bright fluorescent lights. He keeps his eyes locked on Jensen as he brings his hand to his mouth and licks it clean.

Biting his lip against the groan building in his chest, Jensen makes himself look away. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the slow-drying puddles of Jared's footprints leading from the showers. “Get- get cleaned up and take care of that- of that leg. Keep hydrated. I'll see you tomorrow.” He's turned around and starting for his office when Jared speaks up.

“Thanks, Mr. A. I feel _much_ better now.”


End file.
